


Fetish

by thorkiship18



Series: Warlock Jared [1]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Bottom Jensen Ackles, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Interracial By Fantasy Standards, M/M, Stripper Jensen, Strippers & Strip Clubs, Top Jared Padalecki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-26
Updated: 2018-01-31
Packaged: 2019-03-09 21:31:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13490175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thorkiship18/pseuds/thorkiship18
Summary: Jared Padalecki is a very wealthy man with a very deep devotion to a certain Half-Elf man, Jensen. He watches him dance every night, never missing a show.Tonight is no different.Or is it?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Surprise! Hope you all enjoy!

The sounds coming from inside the club fill Jared's insides with excitement. He knows those arrangements, those strings, those riffs. One the stage right now, is Danneel the Human, and right after her will be Jared's favorite, Jensen the Elf. Well, Half-Elf. Best of both worlds. He grins like a kid in a candy store when he thinks of the tall, lithe figure inside that nice building, preparing for his performance. Yeah, he doesn't wanna miss this.

Jared sucks in his teeth, smoking through the last of his cigarette. He tosses the stub on the street, grounding it out with his expensive shoes. The wealthy businessman adjusts his tie slightly, and fixes his suit jacket before heading inside of the club. Jared's stopped by a hulking bouncer, the same one he passes by every night. He has to pay the toll to get in. Not a problem. It's customary for everyone. Jared smirks, reaching into his jacket pocket. He pulls out $500, slipping it in the bouncer's front pocket.

He's allowed entry soon enough.

When the door opens, music hits him right in the face, loud and hard. Perfect. Jared walks inside with the swagger of a notorious gangster. Hell, he might as well be one. He can sell and but everyone on this damn club. That's how much power Jared possesses. Finally, he heads into the VIP lounge, made just for him. He's got an..."understanding" with the man who owns this place. Jared pays him well, and in return he gets his own little booth, among other things.

Jared is greeted by two Fairy waitresses, both dressed very provocatively. Standard dress code in this place. If you're not a customer, your tits and ass must be on display at all times. One of the lovely Fairies takes his jacket for him, and the other sets his pre-made drink in his hands. Jared sneaks a peek at her breasts; they're practically popping out of her corset, but he's got eyes for someone else.

He looks out at the front stage, seeing Danneel work her way around the pole, grinding on it like some cheap whore. She used to be so good. Jared doesn't care for her much anymore. He's not here for her. Soon, the music in her set dies down, and she finishes her dance. The people watching her cheer and applaud her performance, tossing up money to her. Danneel grabs her tips, and she lets some of the men to slip generous tips into her thong and brassiere.

The announcer calls forth the next dancer, the one everyone's been waiting for--everyone's favorite. Jared takes a sip of his drink, licking his lips on anticipation. It's not long until he sets his sights on his favorite boy, his special one. His Jensen. The Half-Elf boy struts out on the stage, flashy clothes capturing the attention of everyone here; Orcs, Dwarves, and especially the Humans like Jared. The music plays, and Jensen begins his show. The dark green colors of his skimpy outfit entrance Jared.

All of Jensen is entrancing, it's kind of why everyone loves him. Then Jared remembers that _not everyone_  adores Jensen like he does. The place where he came from--the Elven city of Loraen--kicked him out when he was only fourteen. His mother had an affair with a Human soldier that was visiting, and tried to hide it from her husband. The man Jensen called his father found out because of his abnormally shortened ears, and he was cast out.

Jared nearly broke his glass when Jensen first told him this story. He wanted nothing more than to wrap Jensen up in his arms, to kiss him over and over again and tell him that he'll never have to abandon him. And that's exactly what Jared did. That was only their fifth time alone in the private room together, but Jared fell in love with him that night, and he's happy to report that Jensen did so in turn. The first time Jared put his hands upon Jensen's smooth skin, he knew in that moment that he was the one.

He watches as the Half-Elf woos the crowd, grinning from ear to ear when they cat call and whistle at him. Jared just smirks, drinking the last of his drink. The can cheer, they can whistle, they can call Jensen lovely, filthy, sexy names, but no one will ever have him the way Jared does. They all wish they could spend more than five minutes alone with him. Poor lads. Jared is aware that no one will sleep with him, only because everyone knows who Jensen belongs to.

Technically, he belongs to his master Sir Morgan, but you get the picture Jared's painting.

All too soon, the Jensen's performance ends, and instead of coins and other currency, the crowd throws up red roses to him. Jensen picks one up, smiling happily. Jared stands, clapping along with the others. Jensen eventually looks up into the VIP section, locking eyes with Jared. His grin grows exponentially when he sees the Human, and quickly hurries off towards the backstage.

Jared just shakes his head, still grinning. After some time, the announcer tells the audience that the show is over, but the dancers will still entertain them for as long as they like. Jared wanders out of the booth, going out to the central floor. A few dancers smile at him, hanging on his arm and touching his chest. He brushes them off, not interested. Before he can reach the backstage, Jared is stopped by a hand on his shoulder. Irritated, he turns around with the intent to tell off the prick, but he's surprised to see that it's Sir Jeffrey Dean Morgan, owner of this lovely club and the dancers that work here.

"Jared," Morgan smiles. "I didn't see you come in. Then again, you only come in for one person and one person only."

Jared smirks. "Yes, that's correct."

"Where are you headed off to?"

"To see Jensen."

"Ah," The Master chuckles. "But you know customers aren't allowed back there. Just the staff and the dancers, and myself. You know the rules."

"Well, Sir Morgan, I'm not an ordinary customer, am I?" Jared steps forward, getting into his space. They have an agreement, but their relationship is quite shaky. Very shaky.

Morgan's facial expression sours, and he looks Jared in his eyes. "Not even you are exempt from those rules."

"Jeff, don't let this get ugly."

"Padalecki, you're getting too big for your britches. Sure, you pay well, but in the end you're just another rich guy paying to fuck my whores. Sorry. Just _one_  of my whores."

Jared balls up his fists in anger, fighting the urge to drop the asshole in front of him. Morgan doesn't realize that Jared has more power than he truly realizes...and he's not just talking about money and connections. No, Jared has _real_  power. However, before he can do something drastic, Jensen comes out of the dressing room; he changed into something more comfortable. Simple shorts and a baggy sweater hoodie. Sensing the danger, he hugs Jared from behind.

"Hey, you." He mumbles into the back of his shirt. "I missed you."

Jared stands down, relaxing in Jensen's soothing touch. Morgan leaves them be, commanding one if the dancers to go fix her make-up. Jared turns towards the Half-Elf, beaming down at him. "I missed you too. You did great tonight."

Jensen grins, green eyes sparkling. "You say that every night."

"And I mean it every time I say it."

"Ready to go to the room? I wanted to show you this new book I started reading."

"Anything you want." Jared says, marveling at Jensen's innocence.

****

"So, it's about a Vampire who turns into a Human during full moons?"

Jensen laughs in Jared's lap, knowing full well of the absurdity about the plot. "Yes, that's right."

Jared frowns. "That's unheard of. Unusual."

"Well, that's why it's fiction, my love. It suspends belief."

"But it can only go so far."

"That's true." Jensen giggles when the Human begins kissing at his neck. "Jared, what are you doing?"

Jared growls softly. "Mmm, what do you think I'm doing?"

Jensen knows _exactly_  what Jared is doing, and he doesn't fight him on it. He sets the book down on the table in front of the couch they're on, adjusting himself until he's straddling his lovers lap. They're in a special backroom made specifically for Jared and Jensen to be alone. It has music, a small bar, a tiny bookcase, and a large bed on the other side of the room with toys underneath for "other" activities. They have no need for those archaic tools.

Jared prefers the traditional way, and Jensen is grateful for that. He allows Jared's hands to roam underneath of his hoodie, a hoodie that once belonged to Jared in his collage days. Jensen would wear it everyday if he could. One of his favorite gifts that Jared has ever given him. He'll cherish forever in this Hellhole. The stress of the day soon melts away when Jared's hands wander to Jensen's rear, and he squeezes his rear.

Jensen squeals, grinning and kissing his Human back with lust and abandon. Yes, _his_  Human, no one else's. In Jensen's eyes, Jared belongs to him, and he truly belongs to Jared. That son of a bitch Morgan may own him, but Jared has captured his heart, his body and soul! The Human rips off Jensen's underwear with ease; just a quick pull tears them away. Jensen gasps. He'll never get over his massive strength.

"So strong," He whispers against Jared's lips. "And you still haven't ever tried to force me, not even once."

Jared's huge hands cup and grip the Half-Elf's ass. "I'd never force you."

"You never tried to break me."

Jared pulls out his cock as Jensen sucks on his fingers, getting himself ready. "I would never try to break you."

Jensen fingers himself, putting his face in the crook of Jared's neck. "Do you love me?"

Finally, Jared guides his member to Jensen's entrance, and the Half-Elf slides down, all the way to the hilt. Jensen moans, not particularly caring if anyone is listening outside. Wouldn't be the first time it has happened. Jared's the only one who can make him absolutely feel like a virgin everytime they do this.

"Of course I love you." Jared responds, caressing his face. "I love you more than the Undertaker loves his Bride."

"No one loves another like how the Undertaker loves his Bride."

"Then I'll show you just how much you really mean to me."

****

And Jared did, in fact, show Jensen just how much he loved him. They made love for hours in the room, climaxing together for moments at a time. Jensen was beautiful--simply gorgeous, just as he always is. Jared kissed all of Jensen's freckles, having counted them all once before, even the ones reaching his perfectly taut bottom.

Yet now they lay comfortably together in the bed with Jensen snuggled up against Jared. He traces invisible lines on his mildly hairy chest, humming contently when Jared pecks him on forehead. The Human musses up the Half-Elf's hair, grazing the tips of his ears with his fingers.

"Tiny Tips." Jared teases.

Jensen grabs Jared's hand, kissing it. "Huge Hands."

"I have other things on my body that are huge."

"Yeah, I know them well."

Jared smiles, raking his fingers over his love's sensitive skin. There's a lovebite right there on his neck, and a few more on his collarbone and thighs...but then Jared spots a mark that he's never seen before. Right there, right on the back of Jensen's neck, is a dark bruise, purple and black. It looks painful. His eyebrows come together in confusion, and he touches the bruise. As expected, Jensen recoils, hissing.

This is bad.

"Who hurt you?"

Jensen pales. "No one."

"You would lie to _me_ , your love?"

"I--I...no one hurt me."

Jared is pained, but he knows that Jensen is not telling the truth. He can see it in his eyes, in his soul. Jared knows.

"Sir Morgan has put his hands on you yet again."

"Jared, it isn't--"

"It's the truth." Jared finishes, getting up out of the bed. He angrily puts on his pants, then shrugs on his shirt before shucking into his shoes. He grabs his old hoodie, and gently dresses Jensen as well, caring for him. "He hit you. Again. There won't be a third time."

Jensen looks up at him fearfully. He's still so alluring, even right in this moment. "What will you do?"

"I'll pay him for your release. You'll forever be with me."

"And...if he refuses?"

The Human purses his lips together, tying his tie back into place. "If he refuses, shut your eyes."

Jensen doesn't question him further. He knows what Jared means, and he knows just as well what he's capable of. The stories that Jared told him are fantastic, and brutal at the very same time. If Jensen's being honest with himself, he'd say that he actually wants Sir Morgan to refuse the offer just so Jared can unleash Hell upon him. After putting on his shoes, Jensen stands, walking out with Jared.

The other dancers glare at him, knowing full well that he's the true star of this place, and that he's the Human's favorite. He cares little of what they think. It doesn't matter really. Just him and Jared. Jensen follows Jared, holding on the back of his dress shirt for comfort. He has no idea on what's about to happen, but he has a feeling that it's gonna end bloody...or messy altogether. Eventually, Jared finds Morgan talking with some other rich assholes, butting into the conversation.

"Padalecki, what's the meaning of this?" Morgan grumbles.

Jared stands tall. "Sorry to interrupt, gentlemen, but I must speak with Sir Morgan immediately. It's urgent."

Morgan chuckles nervously at his confused guests. "Forgive me, I'll return." He leads Jared off to the side, happy attitude dropping in an instant. "You better have a good reason for this." Once he notices Jensen behind Jared, Morgan pieces it all together. "Oh. I see. You want my shining star. You want my money maker."

"I'm willing to pay for his freedom. I can give you more than whatever you got him for, and have another dancer take his place--"

"Jensen is not for sale. You're not going anywhere, right, babe? You like it here, don't you?"

Jensen looks down at his shoes, afraid to even say anything. Jared comes to his aid immediately, pushing him further behind him. "Hey, you're not talking to him. You're talking to me. Name your price. I can pay."

Sir Morgan sneers. "Jensen is _not_  for sale. I don't care how much you offer to pay, I'll never give him up."

"You're lucky you're even still standing!" Jared shouts. His temper has reached a certain point, and now everyone in the club is watching their exchange. "Jensen is a person, not a punching bag for angry old men who can't get it up anymore."

"He's not going anywhere, Padalecki," Morgan snaps his fingers, and all of his guards surround Jared and Jensen. "And neither are you. Consider our deal off."

Jared clenches his jaw, looking around him at the men threatening his life. Twelve. There are twelve guards in total surrounding them, all big and brawny and bald. Jensen is scared, Jared can't blame him. If he were in his shoes, he'd be scared as well, but Jared has something that Jensen does not. He looks back at him with a reassuring grin, patting him on the head. Jensen's big green eyes, in a way, reassure Jared too.

"This is the part where you close your eyes."

He turns back around before he can see if Jensen did as he was told. Jared reaches into his pocket, pulling out his silver lighter and cigarettes. He takes a single cigarette from the pack, and puts the carton back in his pocket. Jared takes the object, putting it between his lips. He can see that the guards are laughing at him, joking that he's enjoying the last smoke of his life. Oh, if only they knew about the five hundred lives he's lived in the past.

Poor unfortunate children.

Jared lights his cigarette, quickly pocketing his lighter. He takes a long drag, and chuckles darkly. Suddenly, his eyes glow a bright, blood red color, and he smirks. Sir Morgan and his men gasp, but before they can do a single thing, they all scream. They catch fire for a brief moment before becoming thirteen small piles of ash and dust. The dancers and the other customers there are equally frightened, stepping further back from them.

"Warlock!" An Orc yells in fear.

"A Warlock!? Here!?"

"They rule the world! What is one doing here?"

Jared rolls his eyes at the idiotic murmuring going about in the club right before checking on Jensen. He saw everything, and isn't traumatized or scared like the rest of them. He only smiles weakly, silently thanking Jared for freeing him from this nightmare. He needs not thank him for he loves him. Jared would do anything for this Half-Elf. He'd drag a star from the sky, and lock it away just for him to see. Jared can do that, and more.

But only for Jensen.

He takes another long drag, and plucks the cigarette across the room. Jared whistles for the Fairy waitresses, and they rush to his side, putting his jacket on for him. He dismisses them when they're finished, and he takes Jensen's hand in his as they exit the club.

As long as Jared's around, Jensen will be safe and loved. And if anyone tries to make him feel as if he's a lesser being...well, let's just say that Jared has a few tricks up his sleeve.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jared tells Jensen a story of a Blacksmith who went through more than he could bear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Excuse any minor hiccups, I'm still editing.)

_"Tell me the story again?"_

_"Alright."_

A long time ago, in a kingdom far away, there lived an ordinary Blacksmith with his wife and son.

The Blacksmith made the finest armors and weapons for the King and his army. He was paid generously for his contributions, and it helped provide for his shop and family. It came to a point where the King had become so impressed with the Blacksmith that he had offered to have him and his family live in his castle to work for him personally. It was the deal of a lifetime, and the Blacksmith joyously accepted it.

Life in the castle was grand for the Blacksmith and his family. His wife was ecstatic, being surrounded by lovely dresses and fine jewels. His son was his usual, lively self, causing havoc around the castle. Since the King had no children of his own, he treated the Blacksmith's son as his own, often putting him on his lap as he made royal declarations. The King fell in love with the Blacksmith and his family, deciding that, when he passes on, the kingdom would be inherited by them.

Well, the King died months later due to a hidden, untreated illness. The Blacksmith was to be the next King, and his coronation was to take place a week later. The Blacksmith was nervous, not sure how to properly rule a kingdom. True, he had advisors and a council to help, but he would have much rather preferred the previous King to guide him down this path. All the Blacksmith could do was grin and bear it. He had the option to turn it down, but he had made a promise to the King.

However, on the day of his coronation, the castle was attacked by the King's distant cousins, determined not to have a commoner sit upon the throne. The Blacksmith and the King's guards did battle with them, but they were overpowered. Tragically, the Blacksmith's wife and child were caught in the crossfire, and they were slain. Stricken by grief, the Blacksmith broke down on the castle floor, surrendering.

The Blacksmith was captured by the King's Cousin, and was sentenced to death in the morning. The Blacksmith sat in the dark, cold cell in the dungeons. He cried, mourning the loss of his loved ones. Without them, he had nothing. Without them, all was truly lost to him. The Blacksmith eagerly awaited his own demise down in that cell, but as fate would have it, he was visited by a handsome stranger, a man with dark hair and odd, dark clothes that the Blacksmith had never seen before.

"I say unto you, Blacksmith," the Stranger spoke. "Do not be afraid."

"I am not afraid," said the Blacksmith. "Leave me."

"Leave you? You wish death upon yourself."

"Is that so bad?"

The Stranger grinned at him, passing through the bars as if he were made of air. "I can offer you that which you most desperately seek."

The Blacksmith was afraid at that moment, possibly looking upon the Devil himself. "What are you?"

"What I am matters not, but I have heard the calling in your heart. The pain, the grief, the sorrow, the anger. Your family was slain by the man who seeks to control the kingdom he usurped from you. I offer you the power to take your revenge."

The Blacksmith watched as the Stranger held out his hand, waiting for him to shake it. The Blacksmith was very cautious towards this strange man the appeared before him? Who was he? What did he truly want? The Blacksmith knew that whatever the Stranger was, he was not Human, or any of the other races. But he was offering the Blacksmith the means to get justice for his wife and son.

So, the Blacksmith took the Stranger's hand in his own, shaking it. He felt strange then; Dark Magic infected his system, turning him into something much more than he was. The Stranger grinned from ear to ear, a devilish sort of grin, and vanished from sight. The Blacksmith fell to the floor, coughing and gasping. When he recovered, he found his cell open, and that small flecks of red light were circling his hands.

He knew then that he had changed, that something was different about him. The Blacksmith walked from his cell, encountering others locked in the dungeons. Without thinking twice, he freed them, breaking apart the locks with his dark powers. He cared not if they were criminals or deviants for they would have a chance to prove themselves. Those men were his now, his own personal army.

The Blacksmith used them as pawns to escape the dungeons, and he eventually made his way to the throne room. The King's Cousin sat upon the throne, and glared scornfully at the Blacksmith.

"You do not deserve the crown," The King's Cousin spat in challenge.

The Blacksmith glared at him. "And you deserve to burn for taking away my family. I will rip your arms from your body, and take your head off with my bare hands."

The King's Cousin laughed at him, challenging him to a duel to the death. He unsheathed his sword, pointing it at his opponent. The Blacksmith stood there, not doing much but waiting, watching the King's Cousin. The usurper swung his sword at the Blacksmith, but the Blacksmith moved out of the way, vanishing and appearing behind the King's Cousin. With great strength, he picked him up by the neck, eyes glowing red as blood.

The Blacksmith fulfilled his promise, ripping the King's Cousin's arms from his torso. Then, in front of everyone, tore his head clean off his shoulders. The Blacksmith smiled, tossing the severed head at the feet of his council. He snatched the crown from the ground, and sat on the throne. The Blacksmith crossed his legs with a grin.

The kingdom was his to rule. But there was a price that came with this new power.

The Blacksmith's Dark Magic corrupted him, making him a Tyrant King. He waged war against peaceful countries, subjecting them to his will. His view on justice and vengeance was twisted, bent. The Blacksmith became the very first Warlock, using his Dark Magic to infect the world. However, his rule would soon end.

Angry over how The Blacksmith--now known as the Dark King-- treated his subjects, a Recruit in his army planned to assassinate him. The Recruit gathered a small group of men closest to the War, planning against the tyrant. The men disclosed to him the many powers of the Dark King, including his ability to see into the hearts of men and predict their actions. There were, however, blind spots. The Dark King could not see into the heart of a man clearly if there was nothing to see.

The Recruit willfully volunteered to memory erasure. The men close to the Dark King slipped him clues to the deed in his mind, but never explicitly told him what to do. The Dark King did not suspect a thing, welcoming the new Recruit with open arms. It soon progressed into something more; over the course of eight months, the Dark King fell for the Recruit, and the Recruit did so in turn.

It all came to a head on one dark, stormy night.

The Recruit had lain next to the Dark King, green eyes sparkling like diamonds in the moonlight. The Recruit thought about the lovely compliments the Dark King gave him about his eyes, his golden freckles, the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled. He truly loved him, but that was when it happened. Finally, the missing fragments of the Recruit's came to him, everything. He realized how dangerous the Dark King was, no matter how much he loved him.

The Recruit reached for his dagger in his pants, and straddled the Dark King. He raised the blade high, and plunged it deep into the Dark King's chest. He awoke as the assault happened, staring wide eyed up into his lover's beautiful eyes. The Dark King knew, in that moment that his love had betrayed him, but he did not hold it against him. In his dying moments, the Dark King raised his hand up to the Recruit's face, caressing his cheek.

"Never forget our love," were the Dark King's last words.

The Recruit mourned him, crying aloud for the guards to come. Though he had saved the world from a bloodthirsty tyrant, he also lost the greatest love he had ever known. In his grief, the Recruit threw himself out of the window in the Dark King's room, falling to his death. Despite his horrid rule, the Dark King's subjects gave him a funeral, burning his body in a pyre. After the funeral, his ashes were buried deep into the ground.

But this was only just his first death.

The Dark King rose from the earth, covered in dirt and soot, naked. He found himself across the river, looking out at his grand castle. The Dark King was well away from there. Had he died? It was very strange. He cleaned himself in the waters of the river, determined to rule over them once more. He returned to his kingdom in the guise of a commoner, keeping himself well hidden.

What he found shocked him. His people were not mourning him, but they threw a celebration. They thought him dead. Not only that, but The Dark King discovered that his loved had died as well. Angered, he almost destroyed them with a single word, but was stopped by none other than the Stranger who whisked him away to a windy, open field.

"What have you done to me!?" The Dark King growled.

The Stranger smirked. "I have gifted you eternal life. You were doing so well, my pet."

"I do not...I do _not_  want this! Kill me, change me back, but do not grant this curse upon me!"

"It has already begun. I cannot, and will not, take this back from you. I have given you a gift, not a curse. Use it. Change the entire world as you see fit."

But the Dark King did not want the world. He swore revenge against the Stranger. The Stranger read his mind, and brought him to his knees, dark power paralyzing the Dark King.

"You cannot hope to ever kill me." The Stranger sneered, angry. "I made you! I created you, and this how you will treat me!?"

The Dark King looked up at him, smirking, blood pouring from his mouth. "I will kill you..."

"Well, you always were a dreamer."

In a flash, the Stranger disappeared from sight, leaving the Dark King alone, gasping for air. He knew then what he had to do: find the Stranger, kill him, and finally destroy himself to be with his loved ones in the Kingdom of Light.

For many long years, the Dark King searched the globe, tracking down the Stranger. As the years past, he discovered more and more individuals like him in the world. Warlocks, all men who have encountered the Stranger. He bestowed upon them the same curse he gave to the Dark King. Of course, the Dark King waged his own personal war against the Stranger, finding and killing each Warlock he encountered for only a Warlock can permanently kill another Warlock.

The Dark King questioned them all before ending their lives, hellbent on finding the Stranger. Each one disclosed the same message left behind by the Stranger:

"No matter how much the wolf howls, the moon will stand ever stronger."

The Dark King's rage built up steadily over the centuries, killing more Warlocks than he could count. As he changed, so did the world around him. The clothes, the styles, the music, the cities, everything was new to him, yet with each age, the Dark King adapted. By the 21st century, the Dark King rose up to power, quietly commanding a secret paramilitary group that specializes in finding and eliminating--well, that part does not matter much to this story.

Anyways, the more the Dark King grew determined to find the Stranger, the more stressed he became. He indulged himself in activities; jogging, photography, anything to take the edge off. One night, the Dark King visited a high class strip club that had dancers of various races. The Dark King went inside, not expecting much.

But there was one person who caught his eye.

An Elf.

Half-Elf.

He had the same green eyes of the man the Dark King once loved, the same golden freckles, and the same bright smile. The Half-Elf was very alluring, seducing the men in the club, but when the Dark King and the Half-Elf locked eyes, it was over.

It was like his past love had returned to him, and in that moment, the Dark King's rage dwindled. He suddenly ceased in his war against the Stranger, soley focusing on the Half-Elf beauty.

Gradually, they fell in love after the Dark King swore he'd never love again. He gave the Half-Elf his freedom, and they both lived happily ever after.

The End.

****

Jensen smiles, laying on his stomach at the end of the bed, wrapped in the silk sheets. "That's a lovely, tragic story."

Jared chuckles. He's sitting in a chair in their bedroom, twirling his silver lighter around with his powers. "It is, isn't it? I don't understand why you always insist on me telling it to you."

"Because I just love hearing it so much. Love, happiness, grief, betrayal, revenge, acceptance, it's all so very exciting." The Half-Elf sighs, sitting up. "It's horrible what happened to you, and I hope that...that maybe one day you'll just...be happy."

The Warlock frowns, walking over to the love of his life. "I am happy, happy with you. Do not ever doubt that."

"You'll watch me grow old, and you'll stay as young and powerful as ever."

Jared doesn't comment on that. He can't. He can't possibly fathom the idea of a life without Jensen. He's just now gotten him. Jared smiles sadly, leaning forward to press his lips against Jensen's. They kiss, and all of Jensen's doubts melt away in the night. All that Jared has been through has lead up to this. As much as he loves Jensen, he knows that this cannot last forever. Jensen will die one day, and Jared will continue on living.

It's unfair.

It really is...but what if...no. He couldn't possibly think about that. He has abandoned his quest to find the Stranger. That bastard is very illusive, creating more and more Warlocks, each one weaker than the other. Jared thinks a moment. Perhaps he's become weak? Hmm.

"Do not think of that now, my love." Jared whispers. "Just remember that I'll be with you for as long as you live."

Jensen nods. "I don't doubt it. I love you."

"I love you too, Jensen. Get some rest. We set out for Loraen in the morning."

The City of Elves.

Jensen's home.

He had wished for Jared to take him there so he could confront his parents on his mother's affairs and why his father treated him with disdain. He'll get his answers soon, or they'll answer to Jared. In time, Jensen lays down in the bed, comfortably surrounded by blankets and sheets. Jared kisses his forehead once, turning out the light.

Jensen yawns, and just like that, he falls asleep, with a little help from Jared's Magic of course. Jared smirks, stroking the Half-Elf's hair. Beautiful. Truly beautiful. He deserves nothing but the world. Eventually, Jared leaves the room, going down the stairs of his loft to the kitchen. He pours himself a drink; whiskey, no ice. He takes a sip, humming happily.

"I'm coming for you, Stranger." Jared says, eyes illuminating in the dim light.

He can't bear to be without Jensen now.

The Stranger must die.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, a word: 
> 
> I didn't expect this to take off, but...due to the circumstance in which this story ends, I'm going to make a third and final chapter, at which point I'll consider a full series. You guys were so awesome about it, so this was my gift to you. 
> 
> Next stop: the Elven City of Loraen!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jared and Jensen go to the Elven City of Loraen to confront Jensen's family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is! The last one!

Jensen is nervous.

It's very obvious. The jittery, jumpy behavior is a strong indicator. He'll often stare into space for long moments at a time, not saying a single thing. Jared, however, is always here to bring him back to reality, to bring him back to himself. The Warlock understands why his Half-Elf lover feels this way. They're on their way to see his parents in the Elven City of Loraen.

Right now, they're on Jared's private jet, soaring through the open skies over the sea. Jensen is staring out of the window, legs tucked under him in the seat. He is not saying a single thing. Jared watches him, worried. Perhaps it was a bad idea to do this? Jared had suggested to him that confronting his parents would possibly reopen and heal some emotional scars.

Jared knows all about that.

"My mother used to tell me stories of brave fishermen Elves sailing and defeating sea monsters." Jensen says quietly with a soft smile. "She told me all kinds of tall tales. I loved them. They were awesome...but my father didn't. He told her to stop telling me such childish tales, saying that I was almost a man. He believed that I couldn't separate fantasy from reality. I think he always knew I wasn't his..."

"Jensen," Jared says from his seat. "We don't have to go if you don't want to. We can go to Paris if you like, or London. Somewhere--"

"It's fine." The Half-Elf turns his head, facing Jared. He tries to smile, but he wavers. "It's fine. Really. I want to do this. I just need to talk to them. I need answers."

"Have you had any contact with your mother and father since leaving Loraen?"

"Just the once. Kind of. My mother...I called to check on her shortly after Sir Morgan bought me. My father answered, and he sounded so upset. He told me to never call again. I suppose I shouldn't call Alan my father anymore, huh?"

This is going to be incredibly difficult for Jensen. Jared wishes he can take away some of his pain. Well, he could, if he wanted to, but he swore to himself that he wouldn't alter or manipulate Jensen's memories in any way. Warlocks have many abilities, some of the darkest Magic. With a single thought, Jared can obliterate the minds of thousands, but he doesn't. It's not him anymore.

The Dark King is dead, just like the other five hundred lives he's lived. With each death, Jared only became less Human, at least that's what he thought. He was on the verge of insanity when he found Jensen dancing in that club. Jensen saved him.

Soon, Jared stands up, taking off the tie around his neck. He drapes himself over Jensen, looking him right in his eyes. The Half-Elf is surprised, face and cheeks heating up. Jared is fully aware of what he's doing, how his arms and legs are trapping Jensen in like how an animal traps its prey.

"You can call me daddy if you like." Jared whispers. His lips form a devilish grin, inches away from Jensen's.

"I know what you're trying to do." Jensen tries to sound cocky and confident, but his walls are crumbling down before him. "You're trying to distract me."

"Is it working?"

"...not at all."

Jared smirks, right hand touching on the Half-Elf's neck. "Really? Is that so? I can feel your pulse, and I can see into your heart. You can't lie to me. So, I'll ask you once more, Jensen Ross Ackles: is it working?"

Jensen shivers under his touch, cock stiring in his jeans. It only gets worse when Jared begins unbuttoning both their shirts with his mind. "Y--Yeah..."

"Good. Relax. I'll take care of you."

"Just as you've always done."

"Exactly."

When Jared presses their mouths together in a heated kiss, Jensen knows that he's fallen under the Warlock's spell. Again.

And it's the best thing in the world.

****

By the time they arrived in Loraen, Jared had fucked Jensen quite thoroughly on top of the jet's comfortable seats. The distraction only lasted until now, and Jensen--while still blissfully glowing like a virgin--is back to being afraid of whatever it is he thinks his parents will say to him. They won't be able to say much if they so much as look at him with hate or disappointment.

Jared reels in it a bit. He can't let his rage take over. Besides, Jensen's mother is at least sympathetic to his banishment from their home. She protested with her husband, at first denying that she had any sort of affair. Of course, he saw through her deception, making her confess. Jared hates thinking of Jensen cold and alone on the streets, roaming around until "trainers" picked him up.

Trainers are criminals who pick up boys and girls of all races, pimping them out, or putting them to work in seedy environments. Jensen was given the shitty end of the stick. He was forced to work both as a dancer and occasional prostitute. Thankfully Jared entered the picture. He'd hate to imagine what would've happened to Jensen if he were too late. The thought of Jensen being taken by some perverted old Orc boils his blood.

Regardless, Jared has Jensen now, and he isn't ever going to let him go.

Again.

Again...

Eventually, the two of them exit a limousine, arriving at the estate that Jensen grew up in. Jared looks upon it, slightly impressed. The estate has the appearance of a small castle, reaching several stories high. Jared scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. Jensen looks to him with a frown.

"Is there something wrong?"

"No, nothing. It just reminds me of my previous castles."

"Oh, okay. Did they look like this?"

"They were bigger, obviously, with spires and towers reaching the clouds. Don't meant to brag, but..."

Jensen laughs. "Mhm."

The two of them walk hand in hand up to the estate as Jensen describes his life here. He was the stereotypical rich kid with nannies and butlers who did all the leg work while his father distanced himself. Jensen had piano lessons, ballet instructors (which helped him a lot in Sir Morgan's club), and teachers from all across the world. His parents could afford it all, maybe even the world if they tried hard enough.

Yet all Jensen wanted or even truly desired was...well, we'll get to that soon enough.

Finally, they get to the door, and Jensen rings the bell. It chimes from the inside, playing an extravagant tune that makes Jared frown and Jensen hum along in apparent nostalgia. Soon enough, the front door open, and Jared and Jensen look upon another Elf. He's in a suit, very sophisticated. His dirty blonde hair hangs at his shoulders. At a glance, Jared figure him to be one of the butlers of the house, but the bright smile on Jensen's face tells a completely different story.

"Steve," says Jensen. "Hi."

Steve seems very surprised to see Jensen, obviously. "Master Jensen. It's been some time."

"It has."

Jared looks between the two quickly, brows furrowed. He can see into this Steve guy's heart. The two of them had a thing before Jensen was cast out. They were very close, often stealing small touches and glances with each other. It's understandable, it was all in the past, but that doesn't stop Jared from being the protective possessive Warlock that he is. He wraps his arm around Jensen's waist, holding him close. Steve looks up at him.

Jensen catches on to Jared's jealousy quickly. "Steve, this is my partner, Jared Padalecki. Jared, this is Steve, my family's butler."

"How do you do?" Jared asks politely behind a tight lipped smile.

Steve does a bow. "I fare well, Sir. Please, come in. I will alert your parents."

Steve invites them inside, and Jared's nostrils are immediately assaulted by the smell of strawberries and vanilla. The cooks in the kitchen must be making something tasty! Jared tries not to get distracted though. They watch as Steve ascends the grand staircase, going up to fetch the Mr. and Mrs. of the house. The Warlock looks around the estate, at the portraits no less.

There's a distinct lack of Jensen in all family pictures. Infuriating still, the portraits that clearly had Jensen in them are either blacked out, or altered to make it seem like he never existed. Jensen touches his forearm, sensing his anger as always.

"Elves hold a grudge."

Jared grunts. "I can see that, but you've done nothing wrong. You had no say in your birth."

"No one does."

"This place has caused you great grief."

"True, but..." Jensen deliberates, looking up at a portrait of his family. He stares pointedly at the place where his face once was, now looking at an ornament in the background. "It was once my home."

"Jensen, we can leave right now. No questions asked. I don't wish to put you through more pain."

The Half-Elf smiles. "My Warlock in shining armor. You're missing a steed."

Jared grins that cocky smile. "I would have preferred a Griffin. Sadly, they're extinct."

"Show off."

"Only the best for my love."

"Hello." Someone says behind them.

Jared and Jensen both turn around, looking for the person speaking. Jared gazes up at the grand staircase, fixing his eyes upon two Elves, one man and one woman. They're wearing the most extravagant clothes to further fuel their extravagant lifestyle. The woman's pears hug her throat, and the dress she is wearing makes Jared think of some Hollywood starlet in the 30's. The man wears a suit nearly as expensive as Jared's.

Nearly. Not quite on par with Jared because he, fortunately, has style and knows that quality is best.

The two Elves descend together; the woman's eyes are watering at the sight of Jensen, her son. The man does not falter. His poker face is set, and he looks scornfully upon Jared and Jensen. Truthfully, as the Warlock looks at the female Elf, he realizes that Jensen doesn't have a single feature that once belonged to her. Her eyes are blue, her nose is smaller, her hair is blonde, among other things. Whoever Jensen's real father is, _that's_  who he takes after.

The thought confuses Jared. The Recruit from his story, he--

"Alan," Jensen addresses the older Elf when they get to the first floor. The female reaches out to hug him. Jensen closes his eyes when she wraps her arms around him. He does the same. A stray tear falls down his cheek. "Mother."

Jared watches the exchange, heart strings pulled. Alan also watches, seemingly bothered by it. Jared becomes angry all over again. With a mere snap of his fingers, the walls could be painted red with his blood, yet Jared is 100% convinced that that is not what Jensen desires. When they break apart, his mother smiles in earnest, holding onto Jensen's hands.

"You're home."

Jensen holds back his tears. "For just this moment. I wanted to speak with you..." He briefly looks to the man he used to call father. "Both of you."

"Yes, of course." Finally, his mother spots Jared. "Oh, hello. I don't believe we've met. I'm Donna, this is my husband Alan."

Jared nods. "Nice to meet you. I'm Jared, Jensen's fiance."

It's not true, not true at all, but Jared just wanted to see how they all reacted. Alan seems disgusted, Donna is somewhat excited, and Jensen is downright surprised. If course he is. Jared's mental smirk forms on the outside, watching as the cogs turn in Jensen's head.

"Fiance," Donna smiles. "Wow. Lovely. And you're--"

"A Human." Alan deadpans. "Another Human in this house. In my lifetime. Who would've thought?"

_This is how you make enemies, Alan._

Thankfully, Jared doesn't say it out loud.

"Is there somewhere we can talk?" Jensen asks. "I just--we have a lot to discuss."

****

The den is big, even for a house that's already this huge. Jared and Jensen are sitting together on a loveseat, facing Donna and Alan on the opposite side. There's a coffee table with tea and other small treats that separate them. Jared picks up his cup, taking a sip. He sighs when he realizes how silly he looks. The cup in his hand is very small. Almost anything compared to Jared is small.

One of the perks of being him. Ugh.

"So..." Jensen starts after a period of awkward silence. "How--how have you two been?"

Donna speaks first. "We've been very--"

"What do you want, boy?" Alan interrupts.

"Alan!"

"What? He came here for something. What is it? Money? Looks like this 'gentleman' he's brought with him could spend millions and earn it back in the same second. What do you do for business? Trafficking? Whoring out boys like him?"

Jared cocks up his eyebrow at Alan in challenge, but says nothing.

"Dad," Jensen interferes. "Don't...Don't talk about Jared like that--"

"I'm not your father, boy, and I never was! That was all your mother's fault! If she hadn't screwed that damn soldier, we would still be invited to the biggest social events in the city."

"You never even gave him a chance!" Donna cries.

"Oh, shut up, whore! You're lucky I didn't cast you out on the street with him!"

Jared is appalled. He hasn't seen family drama like this since...well, never. He has never witnessed a family tear into each other the way the Ackles have. Jensen is caught in the crossfire of all of this; he has given up on trying to talk, and now his parents are arguing over him. This must have happened a lot in Jensen's youth. Jared puts his hand on Jensen's knee, squeezing reassuringly.

He looks at the bickering couple, irises glowing green.

"Stop talking, and keep still."

In an instant, Alan and Donna close their mouths, and face Jared and Jensen. They give them their undivided attention, as if they actually had a say in the matter. The pair seem frightened by their willingness to obey Jared, quickly realizing that he's no ordinary Human. Jared nods at Jensen, silently signaling him to carry on with whatever he came here to say.

"I didn't come here to start an argument," Jensen mumbles. "I came here for the truth. We all know what happened, why grandma looked at me differently, why Uncle Joe kept me away from his children. I need to know. Everything. Today."

Jensen looks at Jared, gesturing towards his mother. The Warlock breaks his hold on Donna, and she speaks. She lays it all out on the table.

"It was years ago, when the Humans began to war with the Goblins in the East. There was a period of peace in the meantime, and a few troops came here to unwind. They were watched carefully by the citizens. Humans and Elves have had an uneasy alliance since the Battle of Hollywood in 1935."

Jensen furrows his brows. "Go on."

"During that time, your father and I..." Donna hesitates, picking at her dress nervously. "We...we were having difficulties in our marriage. He cared a lot about his social standing, and only really wanted me on his arm at events. I felt neglected, so I decided to go out with friends to have a good time. Well, we went to a bar. A lovely bar with nice music and fine drinks. I had a few, and I noticed a man sitting next to me."

"My father..."

Donna nods, continuing on. "He was charming, and his smile lit up the entire room. We talked, and he told me about the war, how stressful it was. I told him about myself, and he...complimented my ears."

She smiles at the memory, and Jared can't help but to do the same. He remembers admiring Jensen's when they first met, and long after.

"After some time, we left together, and I went back to his room with him. I didn't regret any of it. None of it. I felt wanted and appreciated for the first time. He knew I was married...and we made it out secret. For weeks, we kept going at our love affair, and I actually considered leaving Alan...but it wasn't to be. He had to go back to the front lines, and bid me farewell. We kept in contact, writing letters."

Jensen almost cries, voice cracking. "What happened?"

His mother, however, lets her tears fall freely. "I found out that I was pregnant, and I knew right away that it was his. I wrote him a letter telling him, and he wrote back, ecstatic. He was excited to be a father. He promised me he would come home, and take me away from here. That was his last letter. He died in the battle that ended the war, saving many soldiers from a blast. I never knew his real name, but I suppose it didn't matter. My heart was broken..." Donna smiles at Jensen, reaching across the table to hold his hands again. "But at least he gave me you."

The exchange between mother and son warms Jared's heart. He has no real memories of his own parents, so he's not sure if he'd miss them. How can one miss what they never truly had? All Jared really had was his wife and child and...him.

Now he has Jensen. He inadvertently breaks his hold on Alan soon, and the patriarch begins his tirade once more.

"You despicable whore!" He shouts, standing up. "Leave me!? _Me!?_  As if you ever could. I provide for you, I give you riches! You would never leave me for some lowly Human who got himself blown to pieces."

Jensen stands up as well, coming to his mother's aid when Alan gets too close. "Leave her alone, Alan!"

"And you!" Alan raises his arm, and strikes Jensen across the face with the back of his hand. The Half-Elf goes down, and Alan kicks him in the side. "Half breed trash."

Jared is up in a second, defending his lover. With a thought, Alan is pinned against the wall, rendered immobile. Jared is the last one to stand up, slowly walking up to Alan. He reaches into the pocket of his suit jacket, taking out his carton of cigarettes. Jared puts the cigarette between his lips, and the end sizzles until lighting on its own. He smirks, blowing out smoke.

"Not so big now, are you?"

Alan growls. "Warlock. I knew that boy would fall into the wrong crowd, but I had no idea it'd be this bad."

Jared chuckles. "Lighten up, Alan. Could be worse. I could be one of those traffickers, remember?"

"Go to Hell."

"I vacation there." Jared hums, taking a drag. "So, here's what's happening. I'm taking Jensen _and_  Donna with me. I'll get the divorce papers sent through the mail."

"You'll do no such thing!"

"And who'll stop me, Alan? You? You're in no position to oppose me."

"You!" He looks to Jensen as Donna helps him up from the floor. "This is all your fault! I should've killed you the moment you were born! I knew--I always knew you weren't mine! Everyone did! Our family was the laughing stock of the city because of you, you filthy half--"

Alan is so cut off by Jared, slowly squeezing the life out of him with his powers. Jared glares up at him, snarling like an animal. These venomous words that so casually drip from his lips hurt even Jared. How can someone hate a child from birth? Jensen had no say.

"Choose your next words carefully, Ackles." The Warlock says in warning. "They may very well be your last. I'll continue to live and defend him, no matter how many lives he might've lived..."

He cuts himself off there, careful of his words. Suddenly, Jared feels someone touch his shoulder. He turns his head slightly to discover that it's only Jensen, green eyes holding a worried gaze. "Please...let him go."

It's hard to do so, but Jared does as Jensen commands. It's odd. He has this strange control over him. Perhaps it's because of the immortal power of love. Whatever the case, Alan falls to the floor, gasping for air, clutching his throat. Jensen stands over him, looking down on him in pity. He doesn't dare attack him, or call him out of his name. Jensen just squats down, smoothing back Alan's hair.

"All I ever wanted was to be loved by you." He mutters quietly, almost a whisper. "I wondered why you brushed me off all my life, and then I understood it. I don't...hate you, Alan. I couldn't ever hate you because you're still the only father I've ever known. Now, you'll probably never see me again after this, and no matter what you do or say, mother is coming with me. You drove her away, remember that." Jensen stands, looking to Donna. "We're leaving."

Alan lays there, defeated as he watches his wife and Jensen leave the house together. Jared huffs, finishing the last of his cigarette. He puts the stub out on the clean floor, laying it next to Alan. Jared isn't as forgiving or pure as his lover is. He knocks Alan out with a turn of his wrist, and steps over him to exit the estate.

****

**Two Weeks Later...**

Jensen comes through the door, grinning and giggling to his heart's content. It's infectious, and Jared soon grins from where he's seated on the couch. He hurries off the phone with one of his contacts, getting up to greet his fiance at the door. Jensen blushes when Jared gets close, helping him out of his coat and scarf; it's been raining constantly, and it's becoming quite cold outside. Jared might know the reason why.

"Did you have fun with your mother today?"

Jensen nods, hanging up his coat by the door. He wiggles out of his shoes soon. "Yeah, I did! We saw the latest movie I was talking to you about. I wish you could've come with us."

"Sorry," Jared apologizes. "I had other matters to attend to. Business."

"Who were you talking to on the phone?"

Jared lies.

"O--Oh, just Kane. Just discussing the new 'toys' that got delivered today."

Jensen believes him, and Jared feels guilty for only a brief moment before kissing him sweetly. He holds Jensen, hands on his hips possessively. The Half-Elf moans into his mouth, squealing playfully when Jared's hands start steering south. Jensen breaks away, lips pink and slicked with saliva. He looks beautiful like this, blushing and grinning like Jared hung the moon in the sky just for him.

Soon, Jared picks Jensen up, carting him into the living room. There's no protest at all; Jensen wraps his arms around Jared's neck. The Warlock can feel the cool press of Jensen's ring on the back of his neck. That thing costed a small fortune, but wasn't nearly enough to put a dent in Jared's wallet. They make it to the living room, and Jared sits down with Jensen in his lap.

"Home sweet home." Jared sighs. "Have you eaten dinner?"

Jensen shakes his head. "No, not yet. I wanted to eat with you."

"Romantic."

"You know me. I love being around you." Jensen smiles warmly for a time, snuggling into his now fiance. However, after some time, Jensen speaks again. His tone is a little off. "Jared, can I ask you a question?"

Jared kisses Jensen's cheek. "Yes, of course. Anything."

"Well...first, I just wanted to say thank you for giving my mother her own place to stay. That means a lot to me...but...you remember the story I like hearing?"

"Yes."

"With the Recruit and the Dark King?"

"Mhm..."

"I wanted to ask you if you knew the name of the Recruit...or something."

Jared had thought this would be brought up eventually. He realizes that he slipped up back at the estate with his words. Might as well tell the truth. It's about time.

"I know his name." Jared states. "It was...Nesnej."

"That's my name spelled backwards."

"Yes, it is."

"And the way you describe him is similar to how I look today."

"That's true as well."

"Jared?" Jensen peers into his eyes, biting the corner of his bottom lip. "Am I...?"

"You are." He kisses the hand that has the ring on it. "Heart and soul."

"You knew from the very beginning, didn't you? You knew, and you never said anything. I don't remember--"

"Do not think on it now." Jared kisses Jensen's face all over, trying to keep him calm. It works. "Nesnej was my love, and you are my love presently. You are one in the same, but different. Jensen, don't think on the past, just focus on us right now."

"I...I love you, Jared."

"Hush now, let me take care of you."

Jensen lies back on the couch, and Jared hovers over him, mashing their lips together in a heated frenzy. Jensen reaches up, feeling his lover's chest. He rips open Jared's shirt, buttons scattering towards the floor. Jensen grins at him deviously, while Jared smirks, already mentally planning all the dirty things he wants to do to the Half-Elf.

Despite that, Jared's phone rings and vibrates on the coffee table. He takes a second to look as Jensen kisses on his neck.

It's his contact.

"Do you have to get that?" Jensen whines.

Jared looks at the caller ID with a conflicted look before shutting down his phone. "No. Come here."

The Warlock sets the device back onto the table, resuming in his love session with Jensen. In truth, it was an important call. A _very_  important call. His scouts have spotted strange activity in Scotland and in Canada, signs of a Warlock's awakening. Jared smirks in his mind. It won't be long now. While on a business trip not too long ago, Jared found a Warlock, discovering that the man could hardly fight back against him.

Which means that his theory is no longer just a theory. The Stranger is growing weaker with each passing day.

And Jared is desperate.

He swore off his search, but has been hiding this from Jensen. He can't ever know.

Jared will kill the Stranger, become mortal again, marry Jensen, and age with his love once again.

_No more games. I'm coming for you..._

He doesn't expect another voice to speak back at him in his mind. A voice he hasn't heard in centuries, even before that.

_**I'll be waiting. We have much to discuss, Blacksmith.** _

**The End...?**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so a word: 
> 
> HEY GUYS! I love you all, thanks so much for reading, and after some deliberation, I've decided to make this a verse. After all, there's still so much we don't know about Jared like his "secret scouts", and stuff lol. 
> 
> Peace out, stay tuned for more!


End file.
